


I'll stay with you

by Faraona



Category: Benvinguts a la família | Welcome to the Family (TV 2018)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Drinking, F/F, Femslash, First Kiss, First Time, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Lesbian Sex, One Shot, Season/Series 01, Smut, Tender Sex, Tenderness, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faraona/pseuds/Faraona
Summary: Àngela has been at her recently deceased father's mansion for a few days, and can't sleep. Walking around, she stumbles over Victòria, who has the same problem. In the morning, nothing is the same - or is it?
Relationships: Victòria Argente/Àngela Navarro
Kudos: 2





	I'll stay with you

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Me quedo contigo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176234) by [Faraona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faraona/pseuds/Faraona). 



> How is there no fandom for this show??  
> This is a translation, I originally wrote this in Spanish, as it came easier than English, but I'm uploading this translation to make the fic as accessible as possible.  
> I love the show and the two ladies, so when I had this idea, I just had to write it. It's a one shot for now, but I don't think this will be my only fic for them.  
> It's been a while since I wrote smut, so please be kind!

The night was mild and dark over the fancy urbanization and the villa that had so suddenly become Àngela’s home once more. The kids were in bed, but despite of the quiet, the atmosphere wasn’t really calm. It wasn’t exactly easy to forget the fact that your father’s dead body was lying in the freezer in the garage, and the knowledge of this hovered over Àngela like Damocles’ sword.

  
It was late, so late that it was almost early again, and she still hadn’t managed to fall asleep, no matter how soft the bed in the guest bedroom was. All sorts of worries were running in circles in her mind, as if it were a racetrack. They’d ended up with no flat, no money, no plans and no security. The same day that she’d taken her children to meet their grandfather, he’d died, right in front of them, and now they were all going crazy, trying to find a solution how to get out of this mess without ending up in prison – something that was not easy at all with a case like Victòria by her side and a police officer like Miguel on their tail.

  
Eventually, Àngela gave up and got up again. Barefoot, she crossed the carpet, and at the door, put on the provided slippers to go for a walk around the house. Even though she hadn’t been there in 20 years, Àngela moved through its rooms naturally. After all, she’d grown up here, and to her surprise, she hadn’t forgotten nearly as much as she’d thought. Now it was all dark and quiet, and she couldn’t see all of the style changes that, undoubtedly, Victòria had introduced. Her taste was exaggerated, cheesy and way too extravagant for someone as used to pragmatic austerity as Àngela, but even she couldn’t deny that it added life to a place that she remembered colder and paler.

  
Through the big windows in the living room entered the soft lights of the garden, the illuminated pool, and without anything better to do, Àngela decided to have a drink. She didn’t usually drink alcohol at home, with her little time being consumed almost entirely by work and family, but she supposed that after these last few days, she deserved a little help to relax. Beside the sofa, she examined one of the minibar carts (with Victòria, the whole house had basically been turned into one maxi-bar), and she poured herself a cup of expensive Irish whiskey. She sat there for a while, contemplating the view and trying to think of something else, until she heard a sound nearby. It seemed to come from the home gym next door.

  
“Victòria?” she asked, maybe not as loudly as she should’ve, since she got no reply. The sound didn’t repeat, but still, Àngela took her half-full glass and approached the door to check what was going on. It was ajar, and she stuck her head inside.

  
“Victòria, are you in here?”

  
And surely, there she was, at the window behind the exercycle and beside the beige little sofa, with a big wineglass full of a luscious red. Judging by the two bottles on the floor, it wasn’t the first. She was wearing a blue robe with a floral pattern, shiny like silk, which matched the rest of the room perfectly, and she greeted Àngela with an open smile.

  
“Oh, hello there. What are you doing here at this hour, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

  
“I tried,” Àngela said, making a gesture at the pajamas she was wearing. Well, pajamas… it was an old, wide shirt that almost slid off her shoulder, and some simple sweatpants.

“I couldn’t.”

  
“Me either. I mean… I can’t believe this is happening to me for real. Suddenly I'm widowed and like it wasn’t enough, he was actually a cruel guy who’d kick me out on the street after everything I did for him, yelling at me like…”

  
Àngela stepped to her side and took in the sad, chubby face. The makeup had suffered the deterioration of the night and of the tears she’d surely spilled, but her gaze was still clear and shiny. As she made a dramatic gesture with her hand to underline her words, the bracelets jingled, and as Àngela’s eyes were drawn to them, she couldn’t help but be distracted by the splendor of the silver heart that dangled on the actress’ cleavage.

  
“What are you doing here, all alone?” Àngela asked, worried. It was no secret that Victòria drank alcohol as if it were water, even though Àngela didn’t know the extent of the dependence, and it awoke something like a protective instinct towards this gentle soul, more vulnerable now than ever.

  
Victòria took a sip of her wine before she replied, “Just trying to kill some time, and not to think too much.”

  
“If you succeed, please tell me how.”

  
“I will,” Victòria said, gently, but after a moment, she turned more serious. “Even though you said some pretty ugly things about me to that lawyer, eh?”

  
“I thought I’d explained to you how that was just-“

  
“Part of the plan, I know. Still, it hurt.”

  
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it, nor for you to ever hear it. You’ve been through enough already. I know my father, I know how hard it is to fight for the affection of someone who doesn’t love you, to be treated like a wacko, unloved…”

  
Victòria nodded. “I suppose so.”

  
“I just wish I could’ve given you my advice earlier, maybe it could’ve helped. But no, I appear out of nowhere, at the last minute, and listening to me only got you kicked out along with the rest of us.”

  
“I really could’ve used someone like you, Àngels.”

  
This time, Àngela didn’t contradict the nickname, but instead, accepted it with a flutter of affection.

  
“You mean wrinkled and trashy?” she asked jokingly.

  
“Now, honey, don’t say that,” Victòria reprimanded her, but as she looked at the baggy outfit, she frowned. “Messy, maybe, but nothing that can’t be fixed. I could lend you something, you know, although I’m not sure it would fit…”

  
Àngela rolled her eyes, smiling at the delusions of the chubby and mature woman, whose self-perception seemed a decade or two behind reality.  
“No need, thanks.”  
They looked out of the window together for a moment, and Àngela took another sip.

  
“He was an asshole, and a terrible father, but… somehow I hoped that after such a long time…”

  
“You didn’t miss out on anything, reina,” Victòria consoled her, placing a hand on Àngela’s exposed shoulder. She felt the warmth like a flash of velvet lightning, a strange sensation that ran through her entire body.

  
“Sometimes I just couldn’t stand him anymore. You can only fight so much when he doesn’t even talk to you or pay you any attention, when he doesn’t even want you near… I guess now at least his body temperature matches his heart.” Victòria emptied her glass and studied her fingers, twisting the stem between them. “Maybe it’s because I’m so much younger, at my physical peak, but settling for so many lonely nights doesn’t really seem fair, you know? It’s not the same, getting by on your own or giving your entire self to someone else.”

  
Àngela felt a blush creep up her cheeks, hoping it wouldn’t show in the semi darkness of the room. Victòria’s words evoked very inappropriate images in her mind, and she tried to dispel them with some more whiskey before replying.

  
“Sure, you deserve better than that. Someone who values you, who doesn’t leave you alone.” She cleared her throat. “Now you have all the freedom in the world, I’m sure there’s a great guy waiting for you out there.”

  
“I’m fed up to my pussy with guys,” Victòria said casually, twirling a strand of her light hair around her index finger. Àngela almost flinched at this revelation. How had she ended up here, in the middle of the night, tipsy and talking about intimacy with her stepmother, or whatever you wanted the call your dead father’s girlfriend, who you just met a few days ago and who was only little older than yourself.

  
“Or a gal, why not. It’s probably the better choice, at least from my experience.”

  
Victòria leaned in closer, curious. “Oh really? I should have known that the rebel, the popular girl didn’t miss out on anything.”

  
“Well, as a girl I had some experiences, yes, but those were something else entirely, compared to after Manu dumped me.”

  
Victòria placed her glass on of the cupboards at her side, next to Buddha statues and scented candles – an unequivocal sign that it was getting serious.

  
“How long has it been since you were with a woman?”

  
“I don’t – I don’t know what that has to do with anything,” Àngela stuttered, feeling her heartbeat accelerate. Victòria had gotten close to her, so close that she saw herself reflected in those pretty brown eyes.

  
“In my case, it’s been quite a while, and frankly, right now… it’s just that you’re beautiful. Much more so than your father.”

  
“Gee, Victòria, do you hear what you’re saying there?”

  
Àngela felt Victòria’s hand on her cheek, cupping it as she had done several times in the last few days, but now she did it with open tenderness, turning the kind gesture into a seductive caress.

  
“I only know that I desire you,” she murmured, brushing the tip of her thumb across Àngela’s cheek to the corner of her mouth, and her lower lip, which trembled slightly at the unexpected touch. All her rationality was against it, warned her of the mistake it would be to give in to the temptation of the moment, but in the end her passion was stronger. Àngela, having indeed not been with anyone for a good while, was unable to resist the intense gaze of these chocolatey eyes, the call of the full, slightly parted lips. Slowly, she leaned in, and closed the gap between them in a first kiss.

  
Victòria’s blood-red lips were soft and gentle, and welcomed her with joy. She brushed them carefully, maybe a little clumsily, because she hadn’t kissed anyone like this in a long time, but bit by bit, touch by touch, they were getting to know each other. Àngela put her arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, kissing her with curiosity. Victòria responded lovingly, and stroke through her stepdaughter’s brown hair, making her shiver at the pleasant tickling. Àngela felt the soft curves against her body, and as her excitement grew, she found herself gently biting Victòria’s lower lip, which provoked a sigh of pleasure and surprise on her part. That wonderful little sound made fireworks go off in Àngela’s abdomen, and for a second, her last rational braincell made a last attempt to reconsider.

  
“What are we doing…?” she whispered against Victòria’s warm skin, mere millimeters between their faces.

  
“Whatever we feel like, reina,” she replied, smiling, and kissed her again.

  
Àngela didn’t know if that answer was sufficient, but as soon as she felt the other woman’s lips on her own again, she forgot all doubts. She kissed her a thousand times, slowly, tenderly, progressively more passionately, searching for her, for more. Her hands explored Victòria’s curves, which, operated or not, to her eyes were the epiphany of femininity. The warmth of her body passed though the fine fabric of the robe, and below her palms and fingertips, Àngela found no traces of underwear. As she brought her right hand around, descending from the shoulder onto more delicate terrain, Victòria gasped slightly, and Àngela took the opportunity to part her lips as well, to trace those sweet, wine drunk lips with the tip of her tongue, asking for permission. Victòria gave it to her with a soft moan, deepening the kiss with urgency and skill. She tasted of sweet wine and pleasure, she played with her knowing very well what she was doing, Àngela thought, lost in the moment, hardly able to form a coherent thought. Victòria slipped a hand under her shirt, and robbed her of the last bit of sanity. She went up slowly, without hurry, enjoying the way along the skin that trembled under her hand. Àngela held on tight to her, grabbing her neck and shoulders, sinking into the kisses. As Victòria’s hand reached her breast, caressing it lightly, she couldn’t suppress a moan. She withdrew, interrupting the kiss, searching for her eyes, and was greeted by a seductive smile. The older woman’s slim fingers centered on her already hardened nipple, as she looked into her eyes, observing every reaction. Àngela moaned again, leaning back her head. Victòria seized the opportunity to plant a trail of kisses on her exposed neck, going down slowly to her collarbones and the uncovered shoulder, while her hand kept on provoking little gasps.

  
“My God, Victòria,” Àngela sighed, shivering.

  
“Tell me, cutie.”

  
Àngela looked at her with fire in her eyes and on her cheeks, but she wasn’t able to reply with words. Instead, she gave in and kissed her passionately, pushing her back towards the little sofa, until she laid her down on there. It was only a double, and not very broad, but it would do. Àngela kneeled over the woman who was quickly turning into her lover, and covered her in kisses, as her hands started to trace the edges of the cleavage and to caress the ample bosom below the fabric. Victòria pulled her in, holding her tight and kissing her with fervor. She tasted of red wine and chocolate, of heaven and forbidden desires. Àngela didn’t care anymore what may or may not be forbidden – in this moment, only the two of them existed, the entire world consisted in Victòria’s hot body and her own trembling limbs, and in the combination of the two, paradise revealed itself.

  
She slid a hand inside the robe, slowly rubbing the delicate skin, and enjoying the intensity with which Victòria’s tongue searched for her own. It showed that she hadn’t enjoyed this kind of intimacy in a while, and the necessity that spoke out of every one of her movements only turned Àngela on even more. She desired her with the same urgency, and with nervous hands, she reached for the silk belt. Once undone, she parted the fabric gently to both sides.

  
Àngela dedicated herself to exploring the new territory with tenderness. First, with her fingertips, then her palms, and after a while, she abandoned Victòria’s intoxicating mouth to kiss her way to the white skin of her breasts, the pink peaks awaiting her hardened and sensitive. Gently, she caressed one of them with the tip of her tongue, drawing smaller and smaller circles, as her free hand took care of the other one. Victòria held on to her head and expelled sweet moans, first softly, and as Àngela went on and on, growing louder. Only as Àngela’s hand headed for the black lace panties, she stopped her with her own.

  
“Eh.” She pushed the messy hair out of Àngela’s face, cupped it with both her hands and looked at her lovingly.

  
“What is it, gorgeous?” Àngela murmured, brushing her bright pink cheek.

  
“Let me have a go, too,” she whispered, before she kissed her. Then she dropped her hands to Àngela’s waist, where she grabbed the shirt and slowly pushed it up as far as she could, starting to touch the newly exposed bosom. Àngela sat up briefly, and got rid of the shirt in a quick movement, letting it fall down somewhere behind them. From below, Victòria contemplated her as one would a most beautiful painting, or maybe city lights and fireworks. An instant later, she sat up too, and embraced her. Àngela pressed her against herself, skin on skin, and felt the other woman’s heartbeat. She gave her a little kiss on the head, and pulled down the robe that was already falling off her shoulders. Victòria had to let go in order to let it slide off her arms, and Àngela could hardly stand the separation.

  
“You’re breathtaking,” she said softly, brushing her right hand across Victòria’s chest and collar bones, the silver heart still shining like a moon in the sky.

  
“Oh, Àngels, sweety… have you looked at yourself? Or heard yourself?”

  
Àngela shook her head, and Victòria smiled, letting her hand return to her lover’s breast. The contrast of warm skin and cool metal made Àngela shiver.

  
“Your voice drives me crazy,” Victòria confessed, kissing her neck, pushing her against the back of the sofa. “It’s so husky and sensual…”

  
“Is it? I’m afraid I’m not really in a condition to talk a lot right now…” Her breathing accelerated each time Victòria let her fingers dance some more.

  
“I’ll make you sing, sweety, don’t worry…” Little by little, Victòria gained dominance, and in no time she had Àngela lying below her, reaching out for her, shivering under her touch. Victòria kissed her with infinite appetite, moving deliciously slowly, working magic with her hands on her goosebumps, following the lines of her silhouette, the hills and valleys of her bosom, her belly, her hips, and her thighs. As she felt her drawing extensive ellipses there, finding her way to the last remaining piece of clothing, Àngela instinctively spread her legs. Victòria slid her hand down the offered terrain, brushing the inside of her thighs. At the intimate contact, a moan escaped Àngela’s lips, and she shivered in anticipation. Victòria, encouraged and excited by the strong reaction, took pity on her and didn’t take any more detours. Àngela had been drawing lines on her back, touching her breasts as well as she could, but now, as she felt Victòria’s hand on her groin, all she could do was grind against her, desperate for her touch.

  
“Look at the state of you, reina mía…” She moved her fingers ever so slightly against the simple cotton panties, whose moist fabric revealed just how aroused Àngela was.

  
“Please,” was all she could moan, but Victòria understood.

  
“I got you,” she whispered, and kissed her. With her hands, she took off this last obstacle, and after Àngela kicked it off her ankle, she wrapped her legs around Victòria, needing her as close as possible.

  
Carefully, Victòria lowered her right hand between Àngela’s legs, and started moving her fingers in the moist heat that awaited her. Àngela felt like she was losing her mind. She withered with pleasure, she moaned, searched for Victòria’s mouth, scratched her back, overwhelmed by the bliss that filled every fiber of her being. First one, then two, and finally three long, slender fingers made her enjoy in a way she couldn’t remember. Wanting to give pleasure to her lover as well, she kept one hand on her bosom, while the other one went down, past her tummy, the black lace and the small strip of hair, until she found her destination. She felt Victòria’s irregular breathing against her lips, she heard the soft moans, and she felt like she was melting. Victòria increased her speed, and Àngela felt her pleasure rise in waves, coming in stronger, faster, bringing her closer to the peak.

  
“Victòria,” she moaned.

  
“Yes?” Her voice was nothing but a whisper, a breathless gasp.

  
“Victòria,” she moaned again, lost in their passion.

  
“Àngels, my dear.”

  
Victòria’s loving voice was what pushed her over the edge. She felt it all come together inside of her, everything concentrated in one point, her whole life in her loins, on fire, the keys that Victòria played like an artist, and she knew there was no going back. Helpless ahs and ohs escaped from her throat, out of control, she held on to her lover, who kept going and going, whispering in her ear, and bringing her to a glorious ecstasy. Àngela looked at her as the wave broke and the entire world seemed to shatter into pink crystalline shards. Victòria held her tight, and as Àngela came back down, she found herself in her loving gaze. As her breath and heartbeat slowed down, she realized that she wasn’t only covered in sweat, but she’d also shed a few little tears, which Victòria kissed away.

  
“For the love of God, Victòria,” Àngela sighed, incredulous.

  
“I told you not to worry,” she said, smiling gleefully.

  
Àngela laughed, and tenderly cupped Victòria’s cheek with her hand. “Now it’s my turn.”

  
“I’m all yours, reina.”

  
Àngela started with a fiery kiss, and didn’t waste time. With her other hand, she got rid of the pretty panties, and she sat up until she had Victòria pinned against the back of the sofa, in all her naked glory. She followed her every move, soft as wax in her hands, and Àngela, even though she’d just had one of the most intense and satisfying orgasms of her life, felt her own fire being reignited. She caressed the perfect body with dedication, from her earlobes, her chin, neck, collar bones, breasts, belly, hips, until the center of pleasure. As she placed her hand on it, Victòria spread her legs with a demanding moan. Àngela kept kissing her passionately, as she slid her fingers down into the soft folds, moving them very slowly, confirming exactly how desperate she was already. Every little move was rewarded with more soft, trembling moans, and Àngela knew what she wanted to do. She interrupted the kiss and went down slowly, first joining her hand on the full bosom, that work of art, and then, further down. She dropped to her knees in front of the sofa, kissing the soft belly, the cute belly button, and the soft skin below. In the final bit, she gazed up to meet Victòria’s pleasure-darkened eyes. She understood, and spread her legs a little more, and Àngela smiled. She placed her hands on her hips and pulled her a bit closer. There she had her, gorgeous and needy, and she contemplated her as she softly brushed the tips of her fingers against the inside of her thighs. As she started kissing them, too, moving closer and closer to the center, the more she felt Victòria shiver. Looking up, she saw her pleading gaze, and she nodded, smiling, before she leaned in.

  
At the very first touch, Victòria moaned, and buried a hand in Àngela’s hair. The latter started to spoil her with all her skill, starting slowly, licking carefully, but Victòria’s panting asked for more, so she gave it to her. She focused on the delicate interior and the little magical bump, adding determination and pressure to her touch, and Victòria responded with sweet sighs, grinding against her. Àngela took great pleasure in pleasing her lover, sucking, licking, penetrating her at first with her tongue, then replacing it by two fingers. Her other hand found her way back up to Victòria’s bosom, softly brushing her thumb across as she held it. Àngela heard how her breathing accelerated, how she pulled her hair, and she knew she was getting close.

  
“Àngels,” Victòria moaned, “don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

  
Like hell I will, Àngela thought, maintaining her rhythm, focusing on her most sensitive spot, that wonderful little organ whose only function was to provide pleasure. Victòria held her in place, her tight grip a slightly painful, very encouraging sensation, and with the other one she held on to Àngela’s hand on her chest, squeezing it tight.

  
“Ah- ah-“ Her hips buckled, trying to intensify the contact with her lover even more, as she got closer and closer. Àngela gave everything she could, holding her hand and eating her out as if her life depended on it.

  
“Àngels,” Victòria moaned as it hit her. Àngela felt it and lived it with her, keeping going until Victòria softened her grip on her scalp, as the trembling in her legs and the contractions of her walls subsided. She lifted her head, content, but her satisfaction multiplied by a thousand as she saw the blissful expression on Victòria’s face. Her cheeks had turned a bright red, which clashed terribly with the pink wall, but even if she could’ve seen it, she probably wouldn’t have cared. She only had eyes for Àngela, lips parted, her chest rising and sinking in the rhythm of her breath. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds, and all in all she could’ve come right out of a Rubens painting.

  
Victòria lowered the hand that had been clinging on to Àngela’s head down to her chin, and with a gentle gesture, she pulled her in. Àngela got up and let herself be wrapped into her arms, sitting down right by her side. With tenderness, Victòria kissed her, and Àngela embraced her too, feeling the film of sweat on her back.

  
“My goodness,” Victòria sighed, smiling. “I should do this every day instead of the elliptical…”

  
“This wasn’t quite what you expected when you wanted to meet me, I guess?”

  
“If I’d known, I would’ve wanted to even more.”

  
“What a bad girl,” Àngela joked, giving her another little kiss.

  
“Stepmother, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  
It was probably the hormones, and the postcoital glow that Victòria emanated, but Àngela didn’t regret what they’d just done. She didn’t feel the dirtiness or bad conscience that usually came up after her scarce one night stands. She didn’t want to run and forget. She just wanted to fall asleep like this, side by side with the woman who’d turned her life upside down since she met her like three days ago.

  
She couldn’t get enough of looking at her, and kissed her gently. Victòria held her tight in her arms, but after a while her warmth wasn’t enough anymore.

  
“I bet now I’d sleep like a baby…”

  
Victòria smiled at her. “If you want to keep me company… my bed is pretty big, and maybe with you, I’ll finally manage to sleep. I could really use it.”

  
“Let’s go, then,” Àngela said, taking her hand. They quickly and carelessly put their discarded clothes back on, just in case, and sneaked through the dark house until they reached Victòria’s bedroom. The softly illuminated room seemed like something straight out of a fairy tale, any little princess’s dream, white and pink and glass. To Àngela it seemed a bit exaggerated, but cozy, and she had to admit that Victòria had an excellent eye for these things and could give any place a soul. Now she was on the other side of the bed, next to the baroque wardrobe, taking off the robe she hadn’t even bothered to tie in a slow, tempting motion, until it fell on the floor at her feet. Still looking at Àngela, she lifted the covers and sat down.

  
“Well, darling, what are you waiting for? Are you coming?”

  
Àngela joined her on the big, soft bed, but she received a critical glance from Victòria, who raised her eyebrows at the shirt still on her.

  
“But not like that… take it off, will you?”

  
Àngela wasn’t used to sleeping naked, and hesitated a second, too long, it seemed, cause Victòria got closer and took the seam of the shirt in her hands.

  
“May I?” she asked in a low voice.

  
“Sure, honey.” Àngela smiled, and raised her arms so that Victòria could take it off. Once she had her as she wanted, she got even closer, and lifted a hand to stroke her probably very messy hair.

  
“When did you last go to a hairdresser?”

  
Àngela laughed out loud. “Seriously? That’s what’s going through your mind right now?”

  
Victòria shrugged, smiling. “I can take you along to mine, a really good one. The guy who runs it is an artist. You’ll see what a difference it makes once we get rid of these poor, destroyed ends.”

  
“First we gotta come in to some money, though.”

  
“Oh, don’t remind me of that, I’d just managed to forget it for a second,” Victòria whined, lowering her head.

  
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’ll shut up now.” Àngela kissed her tenderly, dissipating the negative thought from both their minds. She didn’t want to abandon this isolated little paradise, away from reality, not yet. Both the past and the future seemed so far away, the present was the only thing that mattered, this sweet moment, Victòria’s kisses, the sensation of her skin, the tickling of her hair, her breath against it.

  
They’d fallen back on the bed, and even though Victòria had covered them with the blanket and dimmed the lights, it didn’t look like she was going to stop her caresses anytime soon. They were lying there face to face, united in an intimate embrace. The bed was extremely comfortable, but most of all Àngela loved how everything smelled of Victòria, feeling as if inside of a cloud that was she, like never ending cotton candy. The kisses that had started light and short were turning increasingly deeper, and Àngela felt how she was getting aroused again. When Victòria abandoned her lips and headed for her earlobe, she cleared her throat.

  
“Didn’t you want to get some sleep, honey?”

  
Victòria interrupted her kisses on her ear, and withdrew. “Yes, sooner or later… Or are you knocked out already?”

  
Àngela smiled. “I didn’t say that.”

  
“Very good,” Victòria murmured, and moved her hand, which had been resting on Àngela’s back, further down, without averting her gaze from her eyes. Àngela felt her blood rush to her cheeks, and when Victòria’s hand found its way to her lap again, she inhaled sharply, shivering with anticipation.

  
“Ah,” Victòria whispered, “thought so.” Evidently content, she smiled, and continued her caresses at Àngela’s earlobe. “My hot-blooded little stallion…”

  
Àngela giggled at the corny phrase, however seductively it was whispered against her ear. Yet, it was not wrong, and soon Victòria’s touch robbed her of any laughter.

After all, it took quite a while until they slept, but in the end, they fell into a deep sleep, exhausted and happy, in each other’s arms. Àngela was the big spoon, wrapping her beloved in her arms, which in turn Victòria took in hers. United like this, they finally managed to rest, and leave all the worries behind at least for a few hours.

  
When the sunrays started to come in through the shutters, Àngela had already woken up. She observed Victòria, who was still sleeping in her arms with a peaceful expression; she breathed in the scent of her hair, and admired the way the morning light shone on her hair and her porcelain skin. She permitted herself this moment of weakness, enjoying and absorbing every detail of this ephemeral intimacy, before she’d have to leave this dream, this room and take charge of her family again. As she thought about this, she remembered the first night at the house, how all of them had managed to pull themselves together, how the whole family had united under the slogan of unstoppables, and she remembered the last feat, which even though Sara had been the one to mention it, it had been accomplished by Victòria, who had made use of all her abilities as an actress and had put on a show that had left the police and everyone else speechless. Àngela smiled, stroking the sleeping beauty’s head. She was now part of her family too, one way or another, she realized, and tightened the embrace. No matter the cost, they would make it through – together, and, if everything went well, loaded.

**Author's Note:**

> I left reina as a term of endearment, because 'queen' just doesn't do it for me.  
> Also, Victòria saying she's fed up with guys is a literal translation, because I wanted to keep the word coño/pussy in there - I know it's not an English saying.
> 
> Please leave comments :)


End file.
